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Back First Comes Love Save as PDF
Chapters (92)
  1. First
  2. Love Connection
  3. Zero
  4. One
  5. Two
  6. Three
  7. Four
  8. Five
  9. Six
  10. Seven
  11. Eight
  12. Nine
  13. Ten
  14. Eleven
  15. One Month Later
  16. Twelve
  17. Thirteen
  18. Fourteen
  19. Fifteen
  20. Six Months Later
  21. Sixteen
  22. Seventeen
  23. Eighteen
  24. Nineteen
  25. Twenty
  26. Twenty-one
  27. Twenty-two
  28. Twenty-three
  29. Twenty-four
  30. Six Months Later
  31. Twenty-five
  32. Twenty-six
  33. Twenty-seven
  34. Twenty-eight
  35. Twenty-nine
  36. Thirty
  37. Thirty-one
  38. Thirty-two
  39. Thirty-three
  40. I Have Never
  41. One
  42. Two
  43. Three
  44. Four
  45. Five
  46. Six
  47. Seven
  48. Eight
  49. Nine
  50. Ten
  51. Eleven
  52. Twelve
  53. Thirteen
  54. Fourteen
  55. Fifteen
  56. Sixteen
  57. Seventeen
  58. Eighteen
  59. Nineteen
  60. Twenty
  61. Twenty-one
  62. Twenty-two
  63. A Christmas Date
  64. One
  65. Two
  66. Three
  67. Four
  68. Five
  69. Six
  70. Seven
  71. Eight
  72. Nine
  73. Ten
  74. Eleven
  75. Twelve
  76. Thirteen
  77. Fourteen
  78. Fifteen
  79. Sixteen
  80. Seventeen
  81. Eighteen
  82. Nineteen
  83. Twenty
  84. Twenty-one
  85. Twenty-two
  86. Note from the Author
  87. Sneak Peek – To the Stars and Back
  88. Two
  89. Three
  90. Four
  91. Also by Camilla Isley
  92. About the Author

It’s not my fault if she can’t find the right dress for me. Okay, I’ve been a little generic with my requirements, but she’s the one who should be able to suggest the right style for me. And the client’s always right, so she can wipe that sour expression from her incompetent face.

Or it could be my fault. I shouldn’t have left this so late. Finding an already-in-stock dress a week before the wedding is proving more difficult than I anticipated. But I wanted both Kassandra and my mom to be here, and they couldn’t come to London too much in advance or take two trips in six months. It’s an expensive flight. I should’ve gone to the States and chosen a dress there.

“Are you ready to go out?” the shop assistant asks.

“No, no point. I don’t like this one.”

I catch an eye roll in the mirror, but she doesn’t say anything. She helps me out of the dress and into the next one. I examine this one in the mirror. It’s in a mermaid shape, fitted to the hips with a sweetheart neckline and strapless. The tail part of the skirt’s made of ruffled white and blush tulle.

“You want to show the others this one?”

“Sure,” I say, unconvinced.

In the main client lounge, I’m met by an unexplainable awed reaction. Everyone seems convinced we have a winner.

“Your face’s glowing,” my mom says.

“You’re so beautiful.” Kassandra.

Amelia’s speechless.

I try to let their enthusiasm soak under my skin and tentatively smile in the mirror from my pedestal. The shop assistant seizes the momentum and asks me if I want to try a veil. I tell her yes, and she scurries away, happier than I’ve seen her all day.

She’s back in less than a minute and already pinning a short veil with a lace trim on top of my head. She steps back and looks at me expectantly, just like everybody else. I feel so much pressure on me that I don’t have the strength to say I don’t feel anything for this dress, or any of the other dresses I tried on. So I smile and nod.

My audience erupts in loud whooping and congratulates me. The shop assistant’s keeping a neutral face, but it’s as if she can read me. Her eyes seem to say, “I know you’re faking, but I’m not about to complain. I’ve earned the commission; you were the client from hell.” Okay, maybe her eyes are not that argumentative, but if I were to take a guess, this is what I’d imagine she’s thinking.